Worth of having lived in my way

Not so often, but I still reflect how I have lived as a pediaｔrician, or how I have lived as a human being through the profession. Have I done my best at study as well as at work? Hasn't there been anything I could do better for the patients? These questions come on in my mind from time to time as if a tune of basso continuo in my life.

Last night, my wife has handed me a lovely envelope. In the envelope, a letter written in a faltering way apparently from a little girl was foound. She has signed as Asuka for her first name. I could not read her family name. She might be around 5 years old. In addition to drawing some portraits and a building, she wrote my name and the name of a supermarket which I often went for shopping on the way back home in the evening. Have I met her over there? A strap of lovely tiny character was attached to it. This might be her treasure. I have a vague memory I got this from a little girl at the out patient clinic. I might have brought it to home and have totally forgotten it. 

She might want to write something to anyone with her knowledge of letters she had just learned recently. It might accidentally have been me that she would write to. Yet, she might have had some fond memory with me. Or she won't have written it and handed it to me at the clinic together with her treasure. This idea has wrapped my mind with something warm. 

It may sound like an exaggeration but I still felt, thanks to her mail, it had been worthy having lived as a pediatrician, as Soprano sings in the 4th movement in the 2nd symphony of Mahler. No fame nor academic career I got. But an idea, her having fond memories of me, made my mind full of happiness. It is worth of having lived in my way.

O glaube: : Du wardst nicht umsonst geboren!
Hast nicht umsonst gelebt, gelitten!